Can't Repeat the Past
by A. Harmony
Summary: "You don't think I didn't wake up every night, screaming, because of the guilt of what I did on there? I was a monster, Jack, but I managed the claw myself out of the pit. You can't keep living in the glory of something that is rotting. You're going to end up rotten just like it." (Reunion fic; modern au; some adult language)


_Mostly created because I hate the cliché of Roger being the source of all evil. So, here's this. Modern era. Some adult-ish content like taxes_

 _-.-.-.-.-_

 _"I wouldn't ask too much of her," I ventured. "You can't repeat the past."_

 _"_ _ **Can't repeat the past?"**_ _he cried incredulously. "_ _ **Why of course you can!"**_

 _F. Scott Fitzgerald (The Great Gatsby)_

 _-.-.-.-.-.-.-_

The moment the thirty-some odd boys stepped off the boat, they were a media sensation. How did they all manage to survive? Well, minus the three whose bodies were not recovered, which was expected—they were only children after all. News stories speculated about what happened, since the police guarded the actual truth heavily by the request of the parents. After a month of nothing solid, the newscasters found something else to hype about and the famous Island Boys faded into obscurity.

Jack Merridew was lovingly welcomed back by his parents and went to therapy once before stopping because it no longer fit into his socialite parents' busy schedule. Jack became more of a problem as time went out, getting into fights and hanging out with all the wrong sorts of people. After two years of college, he flunked out, and his parents dropped all contact with their seemingly failure of a son.

Roger Nelson came home to find his entire family, mother, father, and sister, Rachel, killed in a tragic car accident. He was immediately adopted by his Aunt Marissa, and put in the best therapy and schooling that she could possibly give, and making sure he was always loved. She was his mother's younger sister, a fashion designer who worked for one of the top labels in London, and she loved him like he was her own.

Ralph Elliot returned with a heavy heart, but was cared for by his parents, who didn't completely understand what happened, but did what they could all the same. He did average in high school, went to an average university, and got an average degree, in accounting. However, he was happier than he had ever been. There was a sort of comfort in being just average, nothing extraordinary or different. Being different meant being in the spotlight all the time, every fault and crack on display for the world to see. Ralph liked being like everyone else, and he never did anything to change it.

Ten years later, it was universally decided that a reunion between the Island Boys should occur, and soon the hype was placed on them again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

L'oeuf L'ouest was a fancy looking French restaurant across from the park. Roger had been there several times before with his aunt when he had been dragged on business meetings with her. He checked his phone to make sure the address was right and stepped inside. This was mostly just a contract thing. He just needed to do a couple of interviews, sign his autograph a couple of times, then he could go back to his bubble.

"I'm part of a reservation, under the name of Johnson," Roger said, remembering the reporter's name. The waiter nodded and led him to a secluded table where three were already sitting. The blonde young man looked up and his eyes widened.

'Holy shit… Roger, is that you?" Ralph gasped. Roger felt his mouth dry up the moment he saw Ralph. Did he really have to be the first one there? Why couldn't have been Eric or something? Eric seemed to hate him the least. He even sent Roger a friend request on Facebook.

"Yes," Roger managed to scrap out, his voice barely above a whisper. Everything he did on the island, especially to Ralph, seemed to rush back to him, and Roger was very close to turning around and marching right out of that restaurant.

"You look… a lot better," Ralph said, giving him a half smile, and suddenly, Roger could breathe again. "I think you might be more well adjusted than I am." Ralph let out a laugh. Roger smiled and sat across from him.

"Years of therapy helped. Worked out a lot of personal stuff going on, " Roger said, but he still felt antsy around Ralph. What he did… What he had done on that island was inexcusable. While he did have a lot of mental issues going on, mostly because of his father, it didn't excuse the fact that he did kill Piggy. The thought of it made his stomach turn.

Sam and Eric came in a few minutes later. Eric greeted everyone with a warm smile, while Sam was more held back. The older they had gotten, the more different they became. Sam became more of an introvert and logical than he free-spirited and extroverted twin. Maurice came soon after with a couple other of the original choir boys, now men, but after thirty minutes, one person was still missing.

"Where's Jack?" Ralph asked, looking at Roger automatically, who shrugged. He lost contact with the redhead after he changed schools.

Almost by cue, the doors swung open and Jack swaggered in with a cocky grin on his face. Roger almost dropped his water glass, and Ralph looked shocked by his appearance. The once pristine and disciplined preteen had morphed into some kid of punk, with eyebrow and nose rings and crap thrift store clothes. His hair was cropped and the smell of marijuana and body odor wafted off of him. Roger almost gagged when Jack sat down next to him and a tsunami of the stench surrounded him.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Jack said, looking around at everyone, who looked shell-shocked, with the exception of Eric and Sam.

"It has," Ralph said, staring at Jack. The reporters cleared their throats all of a sudden.

"Now that all of you are here, we can go over your contract. We're hoping for two television interviews, one interview on BBC radio, and one photo shoot. How does that sound?" The reporter said, handing them each a contract. "We'll be putting you on the same floor of the hotel for convince."

"Sounds good," Eric said, immediately signing it. Sam read and reread the contract before signing it.

"We don't have to share rooms with anyone, would we?" Ralph asked, which the reporter told him they didn't unless they wanted to.

"Do we get paid for all of this?" Jack asked, signing the contract anyways. The two reporters nodded, which made a lot of them to perk up.

"When do we start?" Roger asked as he slid his signed contract back to the two reporters.

"Tomorrow, if possible," one of them said. "Thank you for cooperating. We'll do our best to make sure you're all comfortable in your apartments. Email us if you have any other questions." They left quickly.

"I'll see you lot bright and early tomorrow," Jack said and headed out, his fingers twitching like they ached to hold a joint. Shocked silence followed his wake.

"What the hell happened to him?" Roger muttered under his breath. Ralph shrugged and they headed out of the restaurant.

"Here," Ralph said, handing Roger a piece of paper.

"What is this?"

"My cell number. It's up to you, I mean," Ralph said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"Thanks," Roger said, sticking the paper in his pocket. "See you tomorrow, I guess."

"See you," Ralph said, and they parted ways.


End file.
